XI
UT the next morning his confidence had waned, and, seated alone at the breakfast table—his mother never came down in the morning—with a litter of papers and mail about him, he called himself several kinds of a fool, addressing his remarks sotto voce to the silver coffee-pot which purred enticingly over its blue flame. He had got out of bed feeling on edge, and neither his mail, largely composed of begging letters, invitations to subscribe to various charities and glowing offers of investment securities, nor the morning papers had added to his happiness. The papers were full of the Commerce Commission's probe into the methods of the Central and Western Railway. It was a nasty mess, and Gordon frowned and muttered as he glanced through news stories and editorials. A financial journal, actuated by friendly motives, stated that the Administration could scarcely afford at
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